


Fatal Attraction

by unfortunately7



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Accidental Death, Blood, Burns, Character Death, Kidnapping, Lawrence Oleander - Freeform, Multi, Stalking, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-07-28 07:33:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20060341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfortunately7/pseuds/unfortunately7
Summary: Lawrence loves you.But maybe a little too much...





	1. At First

He liked watching you. The way you moved, the way to spoke to yourself, the way you acted when you thought nobody was watching. But he was watching. He watched you all the time. You were his angel, he couldn't help it.

The thing was, he had to share you. He didn't like that, didn't like it at all. You weren't in a relationship, but you had friends. coworkers. Family. He didn't like that at all. No, you were his. You should only need him.

Thing was, you didn't know he existed. 

But, he supposed, that was okay with him. for now at least. Because if you knew he was there, you wouldn't act the same. There was something so intimate about watching someone be their true, private self, when they stripped themselves of the mask they put on for the rest of the world.

He had seen you without it, seen who you really were. It was intoxicating.

But he wanted to get closer. He had watched you for nearly a year now, but seeing from a distance just wasn't enough anymore. No, he needed you closer. 

Closer.

You weren't expecting it. You had no idea that he was following you. None whatsoever. It came as quite a shock when someone grabbed you from behind one night as you walked home from work, covering your mouth with one large hand while pinning your arms down with their's. They drug you backwards into an alleyway. 

Of course, things like this happened all the time in the city. But the shocking part was what they said to you before they knocked you out.

"I've b-been waiting for so long, (Y/N). You... I can't let you go. Not ever."

And then it went dark.

You woke up in a room enclosed in greenery. Now, you liked plants, had several yourself, but this was extreme. You could hear water running to your left. A shower? Someone was humming softly.

You looked down. You were firmly taped to a chair, though not uncomfortably tight. But there was definitely no way you could loosen the tape, but maybe you could loosen the arms of the chair? Then you could un-tape you legs and then-

The shower stopped. You froze. A moment later a tall man emerged, towel wrapped around his waist. His long blonde hair was draped over his shoulders, wet. He paused and looked around, then noticed you staring wide-eyed.

"O-oh! You're awake," he exclaimed, his face reddening. He looked around the room again and disappeared out of your line of sight. After a moment (and the tell-tale rustle of cloth) he returned, clothed in a pair of sweatpants. His hair was tied back in a lazy ponytail, still dripping water.

"Where the fuck am I," you spat, terrified and angry. His brow furrowed, but then he shook his head and laughed.

"You're where you're supposed to be. With me," he said with a sureness that made you tremble.

He took a step closer. You glared at him, teas of fear welling in your eyes. "No! Stay the fuck away from me," you shouted. He looked furious and lunged at you, slamming his hand over your mouth. You bit his palm, but he didn't remove it. 

"Hush," he hissed through gritted teeth, face now red with fury. He stood tense for a moment as someone yelled to be quiet. Apparently this was an apartment.

After a long moment, he pulled his hand away and looked at you sternly. "You have to be quiet. I- I won't tolerate you yelling.You're supposed to stay here, with me, and I won't let you be taken away. No yelling."

You bit your lip, hanging your head. You nodded slowly. He sighed in relief and stood from his crouched position. He gave you a gentle smile. "That's better. Now be quiet please, I'm going to, uh, go get you something to drink." He turned and walked to a small, plant-covered kitchen area. 

He pulled a tea kettle out of one of the cabinets and filled it with watere from the sink, then switched on the stove. He set the kettle over the front burner and placed what looked to be a DIY teabag in it. Lord knows what was in it, you thought with a shudder.

He continued rummaging through the kitchen as the tea came to a boil. While he worked, you frantically tried to free yourself from your bindings. As you had thought before, the tape was too tight to tear out of. However, the arms of the chair were loose. They creaked as you jerked your forearms around. He seemed to tense once after a particularly loud creak, but he went back to what he was doing after a moment, leaving you to give an inaudible sigh of relief.

With a few more sharp tugs, you felt the chair arms give-way. The long haired man retrieved a cup and began to pour the tea he had made. You sat still, planning, as he approached you. He knelt down beside you again.

"Careful, it's very hot. I'll just tilt it a little bit so you can get a sip of-" his sentence turned into a startled cry as you swung the left chair arm, still taped firmly to you, at him. The teacup flew out of his hand, splashing the both of you in scalding water. He yelped, but you seemed to have taken the brunt of the boiling liquid. He stumbled backwards.

You tried to stand, forgetting that your legs were bound as well. You landed one more blow to his cheek with your fist before falling to the floor, screaming. His eyes were wide as he dove at you, attempting to cover your mouth. You turned your head, and his elbow jammed into your ribs as he landed on you with a painful thud. You felt bones snap and air rush from your lungs. 

He scrambled to his knees, hands gripping your neck now in a frenzied attempt to keep you quiet. His hands were like vices, allowing no air to refill your chest. You struggled to breath but found your vision going black. His grip loosen. "I told you to be fucking quiet," he said, distressed.

You inhaled, a sickenig gurgle sounding from your midsection. You coughed, blood flying from you parted lips. His eyes widened as he saw the crimson droplets. "N-no, this isn't good, n-no, uh..." He stood and rushed to the kitchen, grabbing a towel. You coughed again. Your eyes began to flutter shut.

You felt frantic hands fluttering over you, a cloth brushing the blood from your lips. He was saying something, but it was muffled. You were so, so tired.

So tired.


	2. Mourning

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Lawrence bit his lip, groaning. You definitely seemed dead.

Bloodied, burnt, smashed.

And very, very dead.

Blood was seeping out of your crushed ribcage, staining the floor. Sure, there had been blood on this floor before, but that was before the downstairs neighbors had their ceilings redone, getting rid of all the water stains and other various muck that concealed anything that seeped through.

He hadn't intended to kill you, hadn't intended to kill anyone else once he had you there. But know that was fucked. 

He was fucked.

He lifted your body, limp, limbs dangling obscenely. He looked frantically around the apartment, trying to see if there was anything he could lay you on until he could get rid of the body. 

That thought hurt him, getting rid of you like you were rubbish. No, he couldn't do that.

In a flash of intuition, it hit him: the bathtub. He walked you to the small bathroom, blood driping along the way, leaving a crimson trail behind him. He lowered you down gently, nestling your body in what seemed like woukld be a comfortable way in the porcelain confines.

He knelt by the tub, bloodied hand resting on yours, pale and rapidly cooling. Tears trickled down his face, his expression wrought with regret.

"I didn't want to kill you.... wanted you to stay here... with me..." he said, voice cracking.

His pale blue eyes fluttered over your face. You had such a peaceful expression, just like when you slept. If it weren't for the blood staining your lips, that would be a believable alternative. He turned on the water, using it to wash the blood away. There, that's better.

He sighed. "I... I c-can't let you go." He entwined his fingers with yours. "I'm going to keep you, I promise. Just like I said I would."

He released your hand, allowing it to fall, curled, to your chest. His hand trailed down your shirt, unbuttoning it as he went, caressing your soft flesh.

Perfect, he thought. Absolutely perfect for planting. The most beautiful vase for his most magnificent specimens.

**Author's Note:**

> PLease comment I loVe commentS also i lOve you guYs


End file.
